So Why Do You Care?
by Gamma Orionis
Summary: Krystal was so excited to meet the new girl. She was hoping that they would be friends. Girl friends. Not girlfriends. Written for Challenge #31 on writerverse on LiveJournal and for Femslash February.


Author's Notes: Written for Challenge #31, Criss Cross Applesauce, on writerverse on LiveJournal, and in celebration of Femslash February (new femmeslash pairing! Yay!)

Warnings: Language, uncouthness, absolute refusal on my part to attempt to write Krystal's accent, and a thorough disregard for timelines.

)O(

Krystal sat on the curb with a cigarette in her hand and a scowl on her face. The cigarette wasn't even lit – Terri had taken her lighter with her and gone out God-only-knew where, and Krystal had had to trade her usual lighter for bus fare, and the shop where she had stolen her last one had started keeping them on a rack by the cashier, who gave Krystal a dirty look whenever she got within ten feet. But she held the cigarette anyway, flicking it back and forth between her fingers and tapping it on her knee because it gave her something to do with her hands.

She was watching the new family move in.

She wouldn't have bothered if it weren't for the fact that she had had heard that the new family had a daughter her age.

She'd heard that from the older boys who lived around, who had skived off school and watched the family pull up in a little station wagon and start moving in. That had been early that afternoon – Krystal knew, because she had started making her way up to the house right after noon (by Terri's clock, which probably wasn't very accurate), and when she had gotten there, the boys had already been dispersing. She had grabbed one and demanded to know what they had seen, and when she had heard that there was definitely a daughter, she had plopped herself down on the curb and announced that she'd stay there until she came out.

Krystal hated the other girls in her form at school – they were all aligned against her, she thought. If she could just get to this one first, before all the bitches from school did – if she could spend the summer forming enough of a friendship that she wouldn't immediately abandon Krystal when she saw what the other girls were like – she _might_, for once in her life, end up with a friend. A real friend, a girl friend. Maybe the girl would even be cool enough that Krystal would actually like her.

Krystal thought that would be pretty good.

Maybe if she had a girl friend, she wouldn't have to stand up to the boys by herself all the time. Maybe when she was feeling like shit and didn't want to bother with them, she'd have someone else to do it for her. Maybe, Krystal thought, propping her chin on her hand, she'd even like this girl enough that they could be friends after they left school – her family must've been rich, so if Krystal was really nice to her, maybe she could move in with her once they were done and get out of the Fields…

But that would take work, and if the girl was the kind of snotty bint that Krystal went to school with, she wouldn't bother. Which was why she needed to meet her first.

The door of the house swung open and Krystal sat straight up, eyes on it. She jumped to her feet when she saw a girl standing there.

The girl was a little shorter than Krystal, and a little thinner, but still stockier than most of the girls at school. She had dark hair cut into a blunt fringe across her forehead, and her nose was wide and squashed, like she'd smashed it against a brick wall. She had her arms folded across her chest.

Krystal liked her immediately.

"Who're you?" the girl demanded, and Krystal jogged across the street, then stopped right in front of her, putting her hands on her hips and looking right into her eyes.

"Krystal," she said. "Weedon."

The girl tilted her head back, scanning up and down Krystal's body. She suddenly wished that she had worn her school clothes instead of her baggy track pants and t-shirt, because the girl was wearing a very crisp blouse and skirt. Krystal hadn't seen anyone wear anything like that outside of school. But the blouse was half-undone, and there was a bit of bright red bra visible under it, which Krystal thought looked good.

"Pansy," the girl said at last. "What are you doing sitting outside my house?"

"Wanted to meet you," Krystal told her. She tossed her head back and shifted her weight, trying to appear confident. "Since you just moved in. Being neighbourly and all."

"You're not my neighbour."

"Well… no." Krystal shrugged.

Pansy held her eyes for a few moments, then opened the door wider and Krystal stepped in.

The house was cleaner than Krystal had ever imagined a house could be. Probably because Pansy had just moved in, she reminded herself. But it was bright and shiny and airy and…

"Why do you have so many books?" she asked, pointing at a bookcase. The books weren't regular ones either, like the ones at the library – they were big and old and brown, like the ones that the second-hand bookseller kept in the basement, where Krystal wasn't allowed. She started to go over to look at them, but Pansy grabbed her arm and pulled her back with a force that Krystal didn't expect.

"Hey!"

"They're my parents'," Pansy said shortly. "Don't touch them."

"Fine, fine…" Krystal rubbed her arm – she would have bruises.

"Would you like some tea?" Pansy asked, suddenly all sweetness again, and Krystal shrugged, then nodded.

"Yeah… all right."

Pansy led her into the kitchen and Krystal sat down at the table, leaning back in the chair and looking around. The kitchen was also spotless, but there was a giant crate shoved into one corner, and it had a tablecloth thrown over it, like that would hide it properly.

"What kind?" Pansy asked.

"Whatever."

Pansy opened one cupboard just a crack, standing on tiptoe so that Krystal couldn't see in. Krystal craned her neck.

She took ages making the tea. Krystal had only made tea properly a few times in her life and she was sure that she could do it in half the time it took Pansy just to put the kettle on the stove. Her hand hovered over the burner for a moment, like she wasn't sure how to turn it on, and when she did, she turned the dial very slowly.

"New stove?"

"Yeah," Pansy muttered, sounding distracted. Krystal shrugged and nodded. Terri had gotten a new stove two years ago and it had taken her forever to work out how to use it, though she'd been hampered by the cocaine, of course.

When Pansy finally handed Krystal a cup of tea, it was so weak that Krystal couldn't even smell it, but she didn't say anything.

"So," she said in what she hoped was a pleasantly conversational tone, "what classes are you taking?"

Pansy had taken a sip of her tea and she spat it out. It was hard to tell whether it was from Krystal's question, or because she thought the tea tasted bad.

"W- what?"

"In the fall. You're coming to school here, aren't you? Haven't they sent you a timetable yet?"

"Oh- no." Pansy swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Hot water was dripping down her front and she sponged at it with her fingers. "I'm not going to school here."

Krystal's heart sank.

"Oh. Where do you go?"

"Boarding school." Krystal's heart sank even further. She could forget any ideas she'd had about the two of them being friends against the sea of idiots in Pagford.

"Oh."

Pansy shrugged. "Sorry… but I'm not going until September."

"Yeah," Krystal mumbled. "So, what're you doing here?"

"My family wanted to get away from London." Pansy rolled her eyes. "I wasn't in on it. But I don't really care where I come for a few months in summer."

"What's your school called?"

Pansy didn't answer, and Krystal wondered whether she'd said something wrong. She scanned back through what she'd said, looking for something that might have offended – she hadn't sworn, and she'd been trying to use her best grammar. Was it impolite to ask the name of a school? Fuck _her_ school for never teaching her that.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Krystal asked, hoping that that would get a reaction, and Pansy laughed, much to her relief. At least they weren't being silent.

"No," she said. "I'm not really that… _into_ boys, if you know what I mean…" She winked and pulled on the front of her damp shirt. The water was making it cling to her bra.

"What?"

Pansy shrugged. "I reckon boys are fine for, y'know, sex and shit…" Her voice had changed, and Krystal was sure that she was mimicking her accent. She would have been angry, except for what Pansy was saying. "I wouldn't want to have a proper relationship with one. Now, girls, on the other hand…"

"Are you a–" Krystal broke off, biting her tongue. She _knew_ that wasn't a polite thing to ask and she was trying _so_ hard not to offend her.

"Lesbian?"

"Yeah." Her face went red. Pansy arched one eyebrow.

"Are you?"

"No!" Krystal said loudly. She'd been called it enough times that saying _no_ was practically a reflex.

"So why do you care?"

Krystal didn't say anything. She fidgeted with her track pants and tried not to look at Pansy's chest.

"I'll tell you what," Pansy said at last, standing up and smirking down at Krystal. "You think about that. Come back when you've got an answer. And if your answer happens to be that you might not be as much of a not-lesbian as you say, then we can talk. So… see you then, Krystal."

)O(

_Fin_


End file.
